I lead him through the streets. As we walk, the scenery gets more and more familiar, stirring memories I haven’t revisited in years. The gates of Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden bring back a rush of nostalgia. I came here all the time after school to do my homework, or just watch the carp swim around in the lake, or lie in the grass and stare up at the sky.
“Man. It hasn’t changed at all,” I say, leading Hiro deeper into the garden. The further we walk, the quieter the world becomes, like we’ve entered a whole other planet.
“Is that a smile I see?” Hiro teases.
I realize I’m smiling. It feels good being back here. “I came here all the time when I was a kid,” I explain, leading him beneath rows of flowering cherry blossom trees. “No matter how shitty things were, I’d come here and feel better.”
Hiro’s eyes soften. Damn it, he’s feeling sorry for me.
“It was an escape. You know? Somewhere I could forget about stuff at home.”
“Like?”
A wooden bridge creaks beneath our feet. I lean on the railing and watch the koi fish swim, free and untroubled.
“Life at home wasn’t easy. My parents were dirt broke. They fought all the time about anything and everything. When it got to be too much, I’d come here.” I try to lift my heavy lips so he doesn’t think this still hurts as much as it does. “I remember one time, I hid here for hours. I thought maybe they’d get worried and come looking for me. They’d work together to find me, and maybe…” I pause, realizing how stupid this all sounds.
“What?” Hiro sidles up beside me and bumps his shoulder into mine, eyes kind and inquisitive.
I shrug, averting my gaze to the koi below us. “I don’t know. Maybe they’d work together and remember they still, what? Loved each other?” I flick a leaf off the railing, annoyed at myself. “Anyway, I didn’t bring you here to bitch and moan about my past. The past is the past. It won’t change just because I wish it would.”
“Why did you bring me here?” Hiro asks.
I turn, leaning on my elbow as I face toward him. “I don’t feel like a lost boy or a yakuza grunt when I’m around you. I’m a different person.”
A little smile hooks the corner of Hiro’s mouth. “Yeah? And who is that?”
Reaching out, I curl my fingers in the soft material of his sweater and pull him close. I lean down, touching our foreheads together, and close my eyes. I breathe in the sweet, clean scent of cherry blossoms emanating from him.
“Raiden,” I answer. “Me. Just me.”
Hiro hums, a soft, happy sound. “I’m thinking I like Raiden, surly bastard that he is.”
I can see it so clearly. If I let him, Hiro could be my sanctuary. I’ll never be free of the yakuza. I’ll never have a normal life. Since I was eight, Namikawa has owned me, body and soul. My whole life has been dedicated to serving him, protecting him. I’ve never had something, someone, that’s mine and mine alone. I want Hiro to be that person for me. My port in the storm. My first taste of a normal life.
This is… dangerous. I’ve never felt this way around anyone. It can’t last. This thing between us could bloom bright and beautiful, but it will inevitably die. I know that. Nothing good ever lasts. People leave, or die, or betray me. Hiro could do any of those things, especially if he finds out about the beast lurking beneath my skin. The smart thing to do is to get my fill of him, then let him leave.
And yet, a darker part of me snarls at the idea. Thinks that if he even tries to leave, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him. Even if he hates me for it. I lock that dark, animalistic urge in a box with all my other demons. It scares and thrills me… the things I want to do to him. The things he might let me do to him.
“You shouldn’t.” The words come out a low growl, and I have to clear my throat.
Hiro sticks out his chin defiantly. “Yeah? Why not?”
Squeezing his forearms, I turn him so his back is against the railing. “I’m not a good person.”
Something dark must have crossed my face because unease twists across Hiro’s features. “Because you’re a yakuza?”
Bracing my hands on the railing, I pen him in, trapping him against my body. “If you knew half the fucked-up things I’m thinking about you, you’d run screaming.”
Hiro leans back, tipping his head up to gaze at me. The column of his throat is exposed. All that smooth, pale skin, the pulse fluttering like the wings of a butterfly, it calls to every predatory urge I have. “Try me.”
I swallow hard, trying to rein in my fangs. The urge to mark that soft pale skin with my teeth, to claim him as mine, burns within me. Willing my claws to stay blunt, I lift my hand and curl it around his exposed throat. Hiro’s breath catches in his chest. His pulse races beneath my thumb, and oh, how I hunger for him.
“I want to put my teeth in your skin and bite until you bleed for me.” I press the words into the hinge of his jaw. People cross the bridge behind us, too lost in their own world to notice us. They don’t get to hear this confession. It’s for Hiro and him alone. “Cover every inch of your skin with my mark so everyone knows who you belong to.” A shiver runs through Hiro as I lean in and trace the shell of his ear with my lips, then nip his earlobe. “You’ll leave, eventually. Everyone does. But I want you to try anyway, so I can hunt you down and catch you.”
“And, when you catch me…” When. Not if. Fuck, my blood’s on fire for this man. “What would you do to me?”
I hum, thinking long and hard, fantasies twisting through my head. “I’d ruin you for any other man.”